


I Knead You To Be Quiet

by windscryer



Series: Maja's Platonic VLD Week 2017 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Caretaking, Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Platonic VLD Week, Sensory Overload, author is very familiar with sensory hell, author only kind of knows what they're talking about, comfort cooking, everything happens so much, fighting a space war is hard sometimes, for mochi anyway, keith is very stressed okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10015667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windscryer/pseuds/windscryer
Summary: Sometimes everything just gets to be too much. Hunk understands that all too well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one only took two attempts for Platonic VLD Week Day 2: Quiet/Chaos! IMROVEMENT! \o/
> 
> thanks to lucy for being awesome in general and also introducing me to mochi irl. i haven’t yet had a chance to make it, but i am quite sure she’s right about how lovely a sensory experience it is.

“Get out.”

Lance and Pidge both froze and then turned to stare at Hunk.

“What?” Pidge asked, clearly surprised by the firm order.

“Get out,” he repeated. He moved toward them, shooing them along and using his size to his advantage to give them no opportunity to refuse. “Go. Somewhere else. I don’t care where. Just go. Now.”

“Hunk, what—” Lance started, but Hunk shook his head and crossed his arms, barring them reentry to the kitchen.

“I’ll call you for dinner, but until then find something else to do.”

Pidge was trying to see past Hunk, having finally realized what was going, and when she spotted Keith’s hunched shoulders and fingers clenched tightly in his hair, she bit her lip. “Okay,” she said. “Tell him we’re sorry?”

“You can tell him yourself later,” Hunk said, but his voice softened at the genuine remorse in her tone.

Lance had figured it out too and he scratched at the back of his head. “We really didn’t mean—”

“I know, buddy,” Hunk said, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “You two can just be kind of intense sometimes when you get into a feedback loop.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Pidge asked. “Besides stay away, I mean. I can go get my headphones if that would help?”

Hunk smiled. “That would be great. I don’t know if he’ll want them, but it might help, yeah.”

“Should we get Shiro?” Lance asked, sounding more concerned now.

“I think he just needs a break from everything. If Shiro asks, you can tell him what’s going on, but you don’t have to go hunt him down.”

“Okay,” Lance said. “I’ll tell Allura and Coran the kitchen’s closed, though.” Then he looked at Pidge. “Meet in the TV lounge for a rematch?”

“You’re on!” she said, with a sharp grin, then turned to hurry off to her room.

Lance turned as well, heading the other direction. “If you need anything else, let us know.”

“I will, man, thanks.”

Hunk stepped back and closed the door, then turned to where Keith was still sitting at the table in that same posture. The only difference was the very, very tiny rocking motions he was making, forward and back, but if you weren’t looking for it you might not notice it.

Hunk went to the cupboard and took down a glass, filling it with water and setting it on the table near Keith, then went back to the cupboards to collect the ingredients and tools he’d need.

It had taken him some time to source some of these ingredients because it wasn’t like he could swing by an Asian market out here in the middle of nowhere, but there was a tuber on one of the planets they’d helped liberate that worked well enough when dried and ground down to a really fine flour. In exchange for some recipes—and a little help from Voltron to send the small Galra outpost packing—he’d gotten several very large barrels of the stuff. It kept nicely in one of the storage bays and now they had glutinous rice flour substitute in space.

He did the measuring over on a counter, opting for a silicone-type spatula instead of a whisk so it would be quieter.

Pidge poked her head in a few minutes later and he nodded to the end of the table. She gave him a thumbs up and set the headphones down, then left just as quietly.

Keeping his eyes on the bowl he was mixing, he said just loudly enough that Keith would hear him, “Those are for you, by the way. If you wanted some more quiet.”

He didn’t look, but he did hear the shuffle of clothing and the scrape of plastic after a few seconds. When he did finally glance over his shoulder, Keith’s face was buried in his folded arms, the headphones over his ears.

Hopefully that would help.

The mixing and stirring and watching the sugar boil down and dissolve all helped Hunk’s own stress levels subside and he let out a quietly pleased sigh when he turned the heat off.

He checked on Keith and found he’d uncurled again and at some point the glass had been emptied. He considered, then approached and said, “Keith?”

There was no movement, but he did still have the headphones on, so Hunk waved within Keith’s line of sight.

There was a tiny flinch and Keith hunched down before he visibly straightened up. It was like watching him put armor on and it kind of broke Hunk’s heart a little as he reached up to pull the headphones off.

“Hey, no, you don’t have to do that,” he said, putting a flat palm out in a stop gesture. “It’s fine. I just wanted to know if you wanted some more water?” he asked pointing to the glass. “Or… uh… I also made some mochi, um. I could use some help kneading it?” He waved to the counter and then mimed kneading dough. “If you want to. If not that’s okay too.”

Keith stared at Hunk’s chin for a long moment, and then nodded once. He didn’t know if that was yes to the water or yes to the mochi, but he figured he’d go in order and see how things went.

It was only a second to refill the glass and bring it back, then he returned to the stove to gather his bowls and the pot and come back to the table.

Keith held the glass in both hands and sipped from it occasionally, but mostly he watched in silence as Hunk mixed the sugar syrup mixture into the salted mochiko flour and stirred it with the spatula. A quick sprinkle of more mochiko onto the tabletop and he poured the dough into the center of it.

He paused for a second and looked at Keith, then gestured when he got that almost eye contact again.

“You want some to work with?” he offered, indicating he could tear some off and give it to Keith. “You don’t have to, but I think it’s kind of fun and really soothing.” He took in a deep breath and let it out, making his facial expression really relaxed and happy.

Keith frowned, and took a longer sip of water, then nodded.

Hunk grinned and sprinkled more mochiko in front of him and pinched off a handful of the dough. “If you need more there’s some here,” he pointed at the bowl, “it will make it less sticky.” He scrunched up his nose and pretended his fingers were tacky.

Keith’s gaze flicked up again, then back down. He took a generous pinch of the flour and added it to his ball of dough, then began poking at it tentatively.

“Like this,” Hunk said, and began kneading and rolling the dough in front of himself.

This was his favorite part of making mochi from scratch. Sure, it tasted good and it was so versatile, he loved using it in recipes, but the real treat was getting your hands on it. It was so delightfully squishy and soft—if a little sticky, but that went away as you worked in the mochiko.

He kept his eyes on his own dough, but he did notice when Keith watched him for a little while, then began to knead his own dough. He was very happy to note when Keith’s tense shoulders started to drop a little, his motions loosening up and becoming more exploratory than mechanical.

Technically you were only supposed to knead the dough for a few minutes, but Hunk usually played a little longer just to savor the experience.

Eventually, though, he set his thoroughly mixed ball aside and went to fetch a couple of trays he’d already prepared.

He showed Keith how to pinch off the little sections and flatten them into circles, laying them out on the trays.

Normally he’d fill them with ice cream because mochi ice cream was delicious, but he’d yet to find all the ingredients for that. There was a fruity, almost truffle-like Altean dessert Coran had shown him though that he thought might be pretty tasty inside the Earth dough.

While Keith kept working on pinching and flattening the dough, Hunk went to the freezer and pulled out the bowl he’d stashed there last week.

He added one of the brown balls to the center of each circle and nodded happily when Keith picked one up and gestured to ask if he should wrap it around the center.

Keith’s head bent once more as he worked at the task, and between the two of them it didn’t take long at all.

“Okay, then back in the freezer with these and they should be ready by the time dinner’s over.”

Keith watched him through all of this, then folded his arms and put his head back down. He didn’t hide in his arms this time, though, just a comfortable, tired slouch as he watched Hunk clean up. When he offered to help, Hunk waved him away with a grin.

“Nah, I got it.”

He wasn’t sure if Keith actually fell asleep, but his eyes did close and his breathing slowed down while Hunk set to work making dinner.

Pulling the pan out of the oven some time later, Hunk set it on the waiting trivets and took a deep breath of the delicious smell. “Mmm.”

He turned to start pulling down dishes to set the table and found Keith there, a stack of plates against his chest, the headphones still on his head, and his expression a mix of challenge and uncertain inquiry.

Hunk smiled wide. “Thanks, man.”

Keith nodded and went to set the table.

Between the two of them, it didn’t take long and Hunk surveyed the table with satisfaction, before he realized that Keith was still wearing the headphones. He looked much more relaxed, but Hunk didn’t want to send him back into overload by moving too quickly back into normal.

“You want a plate to go? I’ll tell Shiro where you are if you want,” he added, pretending to pull on a forelock to indicate the other man.

Keith frowned, then shook his head. He hesitated, then pulled the headphones down.

“I’m fine,” he said, but it was so quiet still.

“You don’t have to be,” Hunk assured him. “Everyone will understand if you need more time to yourself.”

Keith shook his head, and reluctantly set the headphones next to the seat Pidge usually used.

“No, it’s okay.” Then he managed a small smile. “Thanks. For…” He shrugged.

“No problem, man,” Hunk said easily. “Glad it helped. And, you know, any time you want to come by again, just let me know.”

Keith shrugged his shoulders and went to take his seat.

“I’ll just go round everyone up,” Hunk said, jerking a thumb at the door.

He was surprised to see everyone waiting just outside, leaning against the walls or standing in little clusters quietly chatting.

“Smells great, Hunk,” Lance said, coming over to clap him on the shoulder. He waited until Hunk waved him in, though.

“Thanks.”

Pidge gave him a smile and Coran dipped a sort of abbreviated bow as they passed.

Allura touched his arm with, “It does smell delicious, Hunk. Thank you.”

Her intense stare said she meant for more than the food and he shrugged, though he could feel his cheeks heating up.

“Oh, uh, it was nothing. I mean, I don’t mind company, you know? I’m just glad it helped.”

“I did not think it would fail,” Allura said. “You’re a very soothing person to be around.” The mice chittered in agreement and Hunk chuckled and waved them in.

Shiro laid a hand on Hunk’s shoulder, his smile a little sad but full of sincere gratitude. “Thank you.”

Hunk shrugged again. “I just... thought it might help, you know? He looked really overloaded. We made mochi— well, not ice cream, but mochi truffles. I think they’ll be good. I hope so.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fantastic,” Shiro said, shifting his grip to circle Hunk’s shoulders and guide him into the room. “Thanks.”

Hunk coughed, not sure what to do with the praise. He just wanted to help.

“Yeah, no problem. Of course.”

Dinner was more subdued and low-key than usual in deference to Keith’s continuing need, but no less warm or happy, Hunk thought.

And he and Shiro were right: Earth-Altean mochi truffles _were_ delicious.


End file.
